Night on a hayloft
by TimeLordFrom221B
Summary: Sherlock and John leave London to investigate on a farm in South-England. Johnlock; fluff; I suck at summaries :D


**So... I was forced by some very nice people to write a ff, and this is what happened...**

**Contains fluff and a ridiculous case; Johnlock.**

**Hope you like it, though ;) x**

"Sherlock, every inn is booked out!"

"And you've tried all of them?"  
>"There aren't that many, actually, and as I said, they're all booked out." I rolled my eyes slightly. It wasn't my fault that the inns in and around Westham didn't have free rooms exactly then when Sherlock bloody Holmes was bored enough to take a case about a cow which had suddenly disappeared from a farm.<p>

"Oh, for God's sake", Sherlock answered. "All right, we'll sleep at the farm then."

"Yeah... Wait, what?"

"We'll sleep at the farm, I hope you have a sleeping bag. Get your stuff ready, we're leaving in an hour."

I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it again immediately. When you lived together with Sherlock Holmes, protesting simply wasn't an option. One hour later we were ready to leave London for a few days. To investigate a disappeared cow...

The train ride to Westham was surprisingly calm, finding the way from the train station to the farm was a bit more difficult. It was only a small village with many fields and to be honest, it reminded me a bit of Baskerville. Only that the cow probably wasn't a chemical experiment or whatever.

"A bit like Baskerville, don't you think so?", Sherlock asked in just that moment.

"Yeah, just had the same thought... But don't even dare using me for one of your experiments this time."

"I think that's the farm, up there", he said, pointing at a building which was maybe a mile away.

"Probably", I answered.

In fact it turned out to be the farm. I had hardly noticed that the sun was already setting when we arrived there and I was glad to get something to eat. We'd sleep on the hayloft, though. Even if it was late spring, bringing some blankets probably hadn't been a bad idea.

The owner of the farm – by the way, he assumed that Sherlock and I were a couple; why did people always get those ideas?! - wouldn't be there over night, but he showed us the cowshed and everything that might be important before he left us on our own – hopefully without giant dogs with glowing eyes.

Sherlock looked at me, rubbing his hands together. "Let's start in the cowshed!"

"What, do you want to ask the other cows if they have witnessed something concerning the mystery of their friend's disappearing?" I knew that Sherlock grinned slightly, by the way he turned his head away so I wouldn't see it.

"A wonderful idea, John. I'll leave that to you, then."

"Why are we really here? Cows run away sometimes. That happens every day on some farm."

"Oh John, come on. This is much funnier!" He pressed a flashlight into my hand while he started deducing the... cowshed.

Okay, Sherlock had been _really_ bored the last few days. Probably I should be glad about the case, who knows whether he would have shot the wall again or done worse.

Unexpectedly, I fell straight into Sherlock's arms when a cow pushed me from behind – which I hadn't seen come. Pretty awkward, yes.

Sherlock started to laugh quietly. "And that's why good reflexes are very important. John, we're going to look at the meadows."

I sighed quietly. Running around in the fields when it was dark actually wasn't my favourite activity since Baskerville. But Sherlock insisted and I certainly wouldn't let him go alone. Of course he wasn't a child, but... I actually didn't know myself why I felt the urge to be with him. Anyway, the fresh air would do him some good, though.

We walked along the fences and looked for clues. Well, Sherlock did. Secretly, I believed that Sherlock knew exactly how ridiculous this so-called case was – but of course he needed to show off a bit as usual and do something with his brain.

"John, point the light here." Sherlock had suddenly stopped and I did as he said. But immediately the flashlight went off.

"I guess the battery just decided to die", I said.

"Do you have a spare one?"

"Nope. Well, at the farm I've got some batteries. Which is probably half a mile away now, we walked a lot." I looked at Sherlock. In the darkness he was even more mysterious than usually.

"Then we should go back", he said. "Without tripping over stones or losing each other."

I tried to make out the building in the darkness, but it was nearly impossible to see something which was further away than a few inches. This might be a funny walk back...

"Take my hand."

"What?", I asked surprised.

"Take my hand, it's safer."

Without protesting I took Sherlock's hand. To be honest, being that close to him didn't make me feel uncomfortable or something. I was fine with it. So we walked slowly back to the farm, hand in hand, trying not to get lost in the darkness.

"Beautiful, isn't it? The sky.", Sherlock said.

A smile formed on my lips. Even if I knew him well, it always surprised me when Sherlock appreciated such common things as the sky.

After a while we finally got to the farm again and climbed up to the hayloft.

"Have you ever been on a farm?", I asked when we were lying in our sleeping bags. I tried to imagine Sherlock living on a farm.

"My parents took us sometimes to a farm during holidays", Sherlock answered. "Mycroft hated it, you surely can imagine it. Once he had to run away from an angry cow."

At the thought of it, I started to laugh.

"But", Sherlock continued grinning, "the owner's wife made really good cake, so it wasn't that bad for him after all."

"And what about you? Did you like it?"

"What, the cake or Mycroft running away from a cow?"

I snorted. "In general."

"It was nice, but the company ruined it. Never go on holiday with my brother."

"This brotherly compassion between the two of you is really amaz-" Sherlock had thrown hay onto me. Which he would regret...

One minute later we weren't in our sleeping bags any more but crawling through the hay, throwing it at each other like little children until I managed to pin Sherlock onto the ground, holding his wrists so he couldn't put the hay beneath my jumper.

"John, please", he giggled, looking up to me. "I know you were a soldier!"

I don't know whether it was him or me or we both at once who started it then, but the next thing I could feel was Sherlock's soft lips on mine. No one of us drew back, and I released Sherlock's wrists slowly. He placed one hand at the back of my hand, the other one somewhere at my hip, pulling me closer. We lay there for a while, in the hay. Just kissing each other softly. It was him and me at this moment, nothing else.

There was no point in denying it any longer. I loved this man.

Finally we looked at each other, and it was enough for me to look into his eyes to see that he was smiling at me.

"I love you too, John", he whispered when our lips met again for another long kiss.


End file.
